Saturday, July 29, 2017

When a wounded angel falls out of the skies, a mermaid risks her life to save him…

A seawitch who hates the whole world is championed by the one angel who refuses to let her drive him away…A merangel is trapped in a dark world with a vampire half-breed who doesn’t know the difference between good and evil; only between what he wants and what he can have…The Daughters of Arianne trilogy: Paranormal romances that straddle the line between sensual and erotic, and explore the dark side of the Little Mermaid fairy tale. Now, these books are being re-released at self-published prices and, even better, they’re on sale during the pre-order period! Through July 31, get all three full-length novels for $8.97 on Amazon, Kobo or iBooks.

For full excerpts and blurbs to these three titles, visit http://storywitch.com/series-doa.From the author: When I wrote these books, I expected them to be romances with lovely mermaids, really hot angels, and awesome good-versus-evil climactic battles. All that worked out just fine (wink), but the stories also became an emotional exploration into how we deal with love and loss, regrets, and how we try to live every moment of our life with a deep understanding of how precious it can be, no matter what challenges we face. I hope you give them a try!* * * * *

Blurb

Destiny can show the way home...if it can navigate the shadows of Fate. Brian McKay’s love for Marité Muro burns with the heat of an eternal flame. But when he catches her cousin, Michael, forcing an unwanted kiss upon her, Brian’s jealousy comes dangerously close to flaring out of control.

In a moment of despair, he packs his bags and boards a plane for Round Rock,

convinced Marité will be better off with anyone else. Someone younger. Someone who

isn’t dragging around a crippling load of baggage—and PTSD-fueled demons.

Anger tears at Marité’s heart as she flees to her Abuela’s home. Anger at Brian for

abandoning her so easily. At Michael for trying to reignite their past infatuation. Mostly,

anger at herself for realizing too late that it’s past time to grow up, take responsibility for

her own part in the debacle, and fight for the only man she’ll ever love.

But Fate has a few more tricks to play before Brian and Marité find the strength to

reconcile. Some that haunt Brian’s war-torn mind. Another threatening from Michael’s

dangerous ambitions. And one tiny, fragile miracle growing under Marité’s heart, with

the power to heal their past and seal their future. If it lives long enough to draw its first

breath…

Excerpt

She closed the door. A gasp, heavy and pained, rushed past her lips. The scent… Hisscent lingers. Brian had left his ethereal presence behind, sparking a multitude of images: a night of first love and discovery, a morning of unrestrained passion and intimacy, moments of utter surrender rolled in succession.

Her stomach tightened with the impulse to weep, and she pressed a stifling palm to her lips. Did you expect to find answers, resolution? No…she’d only wanted to relive a little. Have one last taste. Repeat the experience, kiss him, touch him again, if only in her thoughts, before she said good-bye. But with every passing second, this insane exercise was becoming impossible to sustain. The pale threads of the half-moon illuminated Brian’s room, and wherever she looked, she found him, the brilliant gaze, the sunny smile, the unforgettable vows: “You are my heart. My soul belongs to you.”

Tears stung her eyes. Frustration and a sense of futility churned together on a road to anger, a rebellion against her masochistic impulse. Stubbornly, she stepped to the bed, ran a fingertip along the soft bedspread, and froze. There, scant feet ahead, hanging innocently on the back of the chair, Brian’s cane remained forgotten.

Marité bolted out of the room. If the door shut with a loud slam and woke up the entire house, she couldn’t have cared less.

Savior by Nicole Blanchard

I thought I put my past behind me.
I lost everything when I testified against my boyfriend for the murders of five women. After the jury delivered a life sentence, I ran. I hoped if I could disappear, maybe the horror he caused would, too.
When I return to Florida for the first time after his conviction, I’m determined to face my fears and get my life back. Then, a woman is murdered and I’m the only one who believes her death features the same signature as those I’m trying so hard to forget.
Instinct tells me to run again, but local cop Logan Blackwell has never let a suspect–or a woman–get away. He’s made it his own personal mission to solve the case and he needs my help to do it.
I have no choice once we learn I’m the next target, but I’m not interested in getting close to another man, especially not a sexy former Marine who has secrets of his own.

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Nicole Blanchard lives in Mississippi with her family and their menagerie of animals. She chooses each day to chase her own fairy tale even if they contain their fair share of dragons. She is married to her best friend and owns her own business.
Nicole survives on a diet of too many books and substantial amounts of root beer and slim jims. When not reading, she’s lavishing attention on her family or inhaling every episode of The Walking Dead and The Big Bang Theory.

She believes the secret to love is in the tropes of her favorite romance novels. He’s the best friend prepared to prove her wrong.
Then comes the bet.
If she can’t land a boyfriend for prom by recreating the ten popular tropes in her favorite romance author’s books, she has to go to the prom with her.
The glitch?
They’ve been close their entire lives. He’s the rock god and school legend, while she’s the brainy sidekick who does all his dirty breakups. Thus, finding a guy who doesn’t think they’re already an item is going to be a lot harder than she thinks.
Will she land the book boyfriend of her dreams? Or will she be forced to go to prom with her best friend.
The truth is in the pages.

As a child, K.R. Grace had an overactive imagination. When it was obvious she wasn’t going to change anytime soon, her mom shoved a pen and paper in her hand and said, “Write it down.” So, at the age of eight, her first story was born, and the writing hasn’t stopped since. When she’s not running with wolves, sleeping with bears, or flying with falcons, she can be found checking out local bands or watching movies about things that go “boo” in the night. She lives in East Tennessee with a dog that is afraid of his own shadow and a cat that was a mob leader in a former life.

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Beautiful Gilbert Bryant designs jewelry for the rich and famous, and he made his escape from his gossipy little hometown of Lavender Shores. However, with so many friends and family, he keeps getting pulled back. When he attends his best friend’s engagement party, Gilbert can’t help but sample one of the new men in town. It’s just some innocent—or not so innocent—fun. Nothing that will even cross his mind once he gets back to his everyday life.

Walden Thompson dreamed about living in Lavender Shores since he visited as a child. He finally gets his chance, and he embraces the opportunity to start over, to become someone new. He leaves both hurts and dangerous habits in the past, where they belong. When Gilbert crosses his path, Walden gives in to his baser instincts. He can indulge in the carnal pleasures this once and still be okay.

Their few hours together haunt Gilbert, the two-hundred-mile buffer from home no longer shutting out the past or the sexy man he left behind. Walden is just beginning to recover from the smoldering encounter with Gilbert when they are thrust together once more. This time, neither of them can walk away, no matter how hard they try. But when their pasts crash into each other as surely as the magnetism that pulls them together, walking away may be the only option.

Gilbert and Walden hooked up months ago, but neither have been able to forget the other. In this scene, Walden is visiting a near by hot springs and was in the process of getting ready to go home with another guy in order to wipe Gilbert from his mind. As fate would have it, Gilbert chose that very time to arrive at the hot springs, and stepped when he noticed what was getting ready and sent the stranger packing.

Walden’s brows furrowed. “That’s not the point. What are you doing here, in this pool?”

His tone was irritated, but I could swear it was more for show than anything. That he felt he should be annoyed. But I could also swear I felt the electricity radiating from his body, like he was barely containing himself from straddling my lap then and there. I wished he’d give in to that notion. As much as I’d decided I did have a thing for geeky hot, he looked as he had the first time I saw him. No glasses. Long, damp, dark blond waves around his face, droplets of water making their way over the pale skin of his shoulders and down his thick chest.

I shrugged. “You were about to make a mistake with that guy. I decided I should stop it.”

This time his irritation sounded more genuine. “Why would it have been a mistake? Not that it would be any business of yours if it was.”

“Because he isn’t me.” The words left my lips before I could stop them.

Walden flinched.

Shit. There was only one course of action to play this off without letting him see how much I’d been thinking about him. Luckily, that course wasn’t a lie, just not the entire truth. I scooted closer, close enough to touch him, but I wasn’t going to. I was already giving away too much about myself. He was going to touch me first. “Because if you’re going to get fucked tonight, it needs to be with someone who can do it right, give you what you want, give it to you the way you need it.” I cast a glance toward the man, who was still staring at us, enjoying my victory over him more than was decent, I was sure. “Because he sure as hell couldn’t satisfy what I know you crave.”

Walden shivered, and his lips parted. Though his mouth moved, no words came out, and he licked his lips. He wanted me. Wanted me so fucking much.

I wished he wanted me more than I wanted him. Hell, I wished I could even lie to myself enough that I’d believe that. But even I wasn’t that good at self-deception. There’d been countless men since December. And each one managed to possess some aspect of Walden. And not one of them measured up to the real thing. I couldn’t let Walden see that, though. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me anyone can do to your body what I can do.”

I swear he almost touched me. I felt his hand move under the water, and I prepared for the contact I’d wanted for months. Then a shadow crossed his features, and he pulled his hand back. “And what is it you want from my body, Gilbert? Just to make you feel good about yourself?”

Rosalind Abel grew up tending chickens alongside her sweet and faithful Chow, Lord Elgin. While her fantasy of writing novels was born during her teen years, she never would have dreamed she’d one day publish steamy romances about gorgeous men. However, sometimes life turns out better than planned.

In between crafting scorching sex scenes and helping her men find their soul mates, Rosalind enjoys cooking, collecting toys, and making the best damn scrapbooks in the world (this claim hasn’t been proven, but she’s willing to put good money on it).

She adores MM Romance, the power it has to sweep the reader away into worlds filled with passion, steam, and love. Rosalind also enjoys her collection of plot bunnies and welcomes new fuzzy ones into her home all the time, so feel free to send any adorable ones her way.

Naughty Dirty Cocky by Whitney G.

Alpha males, sassy heroines, and steamy sex have never been better…
Naughty, Dirty, Cocky is complete the first volume of the New York Times bestselling Steamy Coffee Read Series from Whitney G.
Stay after hours with the Naughty Boss, be sure to get checked out by the Dirty Doctor, and make sure you’re prepared to work both inside and outside the bedroom with the Cocky Client.
Each novella is a standalone that features an alpha hero, feisty heroine, and toe curling sex. (They are also best devoured over a steamy hot cup of coffee)

About Whitney G.

Whitney G. is a twenty-eight-year-old optimist who is obsessed with travel, tea, and great coffee. She’s also a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of several contemporary novels, and the cofounder of The Indie Tea–an inspirational blog for indie romance authors.
When she’s not chatting with readers on her Facebook Page, you can find her on her website at http://www.whitneygbooks.com or on instagram: @whitneyg.author.
(If she’s not in either of those places, she’s probably locked away working on another crazy story.)
Don’t forget to sign up for Whitney’s monthly newsletter here: http://bit.ly/1p9fEYF

Meet the North and Matthews families and their friends who are sure to make you feel warm all over and your heart pound with unseen twists and turns as they fight for their happily ever after. New families form, haters turn to lovers, and former lovers gain a second chance in these emotion-packed contemporary romance stories.

About the Author:

M.E. Montgomery has been an avid reader her entire life, and after falling in love with so many characters created by other authors, a new one began to form in her head. With the support of her family, she decided to to write it.

She is the homework queen to her four school aged children who think she is a genius in math, science, history and spelling. Fortunately, her biology and elementary school teaching background help her to keep up the expert façade, at least for now.

Although born and raised in the Washington DC metro area, she has considered many places to be called home since she left to attend college in North Carolina. She is a proud Navy wife, setting up a home wherever the Navy sends her husband. When she’s not reading or writing, she loves to go camping with her family, drink wine on the deck, and be swept off to romantic getaways.

It was right out of one of my movies:
Tropical island, sexy single man, two hot nights of nameless passion.
Except instead of falling into each other's arms, we went our separate ways, never to be seen again.
Of course I thought about him all the time.

The way he laughed, the way he saw right through me, the way he took no shit as his strong hands roamed my body. If there was one night I could repeat, it would be that one.
I never expected to see my mystery man again.
Fast forward to my new movie set and the handsome property owner.

Yep, same guy. Same sexy, sexy guy. Our chemistry is still off the charts but there’s one tiny problem: he doesn’t trust me.
Okay, so I skipped a few important details. I don’t blame the guy. But they were just little white lies. Unfortunately if I want that movie-perfect ending I’m going to have to set the record straight...and hopefully have a little fun in the process.

EXCERPT:

I couldn’t sleep. No amount of hiking or bedroom gymnastics could make me fall asleep, apparently. My body was exhausted but my mind wouldn’t stop. Not with the way Colt had me wrapped around him, holding me in place like he enjoyed it every bit as much as I did.

Maybe I didn’t want to sleep because I knew it was the last time I wouldn’t be alone for a while. Even when I did have “company” it was rare that it was as nice as this. Okay scratch that. I’d never had company this nice before. Colt was funny, warm, and generous. He was great in bed and enjoyable outside of it, too. Plus there was this. Just dozing off in his arms was so relaxing and peaceful.

There definitely wouldn’t be relaxing or peaceful after this.

Nor would anything be this sexy.

So yeah, I was up hours later than I should be, soaking up every moment I could before my vacation became a memory.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” he said just loud enough to be heard over the waves crashing outside the open bungalow windows.

“Yes.”

“Why?” His fingers began to lazily stroke my arm. It was soothing. He was soothing.

“Can’t sleep. Why are you awake?”

He paused, his fingers near my shoulders, before he changed direction and moved to my hair. “I don’t really know. I don’t usually have trouble sleeping.”

Knowing he was having the same problem filled my chest with warmth. “We should be exhausted.”

He made a grunt of agreement. “Are you ready to go home?”

“No.”

Another grunt. “I need to go back. I can’t believe I left things for this long . . . ” Then he kissed the top of my head. It sent electricity racing over my skin. My heart pounded. “But the last thing I want to do is go back.” He shifted, sliding down beside me so that we were nose to nose on our sides. “I want another day like this.”

“Just one?”

“Five. Fifty. Why can’t real life be like this?”

God he was handsome. Even in the shadows of the night. The moon cast the faintest glow through the white curtains, lighting the side of his face up enough for me to admire. He’d shaved this morning, so there was a decent layer of stubble on his rugged chin now. His nose was long and narrow but not perfect. When I got to his eyes I froze. He was waiting for me. Waiting with a look so desperate for me it overwhelmed every thought in my head.

“I forgot what you just asked.”

“Why can’t real life be like this?” he whispered, hoarse.

Raw. He was raw. His eyes, his words—everything—stripped bare, down to his soul, for me.

“Responsibilities.”

He swallowed. “Right now I don’t care about any of them.” He brushed his lips over mine. “I’m fucking miserable. Day in and day out I work myself to death for all of them. Why?”

I didn’t know the answer to that. “You love them?”

His eyes pinched at the corners. With pain? Sadness? “I’m starting to wonder if it’s enough.” He kissed me again. “I’m giving up—” he hesitated, his lips moving but no words coming out until, “—this.”

A sharp ache sliced through my chest. Even if we threw everything out the window and tried to see each other again, it wouldn’t be the same. The man and woman who went on a waterfall picnic weren’t who we really were. It was better that we keep that memory pure.

Didn’t make it hurt any less.

Besides, how would I ever explain that I’d lied about who I was? If I wanted to enjoy these last few hours with Colt, I needed to hold tight to this illusion I’d created for us both.

“What if we come back next year? One year from now we’ll be different people. There’s no way I’m going home and picking up where I left off. Maybe you shouldn’t either.”

“A year?” His voice held a mix of disappointment and hope. “A year to change.”

“You’re a workaholic and my life is kind of a mess right now. I think if we tried to keep this—what we have right now—we’d ruin it. I don’t want that.”

“Neither do I.”

Good. A year would give me enough time to figure out how to explain my little white lies. And maybe he’d be so happy to see me again he wouldn’t care as much as he would right now.

“I’m a sunshine and rainbows, glass-half-full, pot-of-gold, pain in the ass, but I have goals, Colt. Just because I think positive doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to reality.” I took a deep breath, hoping it would give me the courage to finish this. “The last two days have been the best I’ve ever had. Because of you. I hope when I come back next year I’ll see your cowboy hat by the pool. Maybe we’ll be ready by then.”

“Is this a brush off? When I come back will I be all alone again, pining for a woman who never really existed?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were deadly serious.

I just wish he wasn’t so damn close to the truth.

“I’ll be here, Colt. That’s not even a question. I’m a little bit addicted to you and I want more.”

“Good. Because I think it would kill me if I never saw you again.”

Oh god. “You’re making me want to stay again . . . ” I rolled on top of him, straddling his hips. “Fuck reality. We’re going to blow every penny we have to stay here until we’re broke.”

He laughed, sliding his hands up my hips and pulling me down against him. “This place is expensive. Maybe we can find a cheaper alternative to make it last longer.” Then he pulled me down, his arm along my spine and his hand between my shoulder blades as he held me to him. “I’ll be ready for you next year. Just know I’m not letting you go again. Be prepared for a fight.”

It was taking all the fight I had to leave tomorrow. No amount of time would give me enough courage to fight him off a second time. If, after he knew the truth, he still wanted me, I would give us everything I had to see if we could recreate this magic off the island.

About the Author:
Former archaeologist Alexis Anne (who also writes romantic suspense as Alexis Sykes) has worked as an oral historian, GIS specialist, field archaeologist, college professor, and small business owner, before deciding that working from home and writing books was a lot more satisfying. She writes steamy, sexy romance with one half of her brain and romantic suspense, action adventure, and children’s books with the other half.
Growing up she traipsed through the islands of the Gulf Coast, camped in the Everglades, dove the Keys, and generally felt more at home spending her days outdoors with a good book. She currently lives in a home filled with wild men (otherwise known as her extremely extroverted husband, The Sexy Editor, and their two kids), a husky, and a superhero guinea pig.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Dylan Walker has spent six years trying to move on from the loss of his girlfriend, Presley Cooper. Motivated by grief and the desire to do for others what he couldn’t do for her, he burns the candle at both ends to make it through medical school. After graduation he moves west, putting as much distance as possible between his past and his present.

Or so he thought.

Unknowingly, Dylan has been set on a path that will destroy everything he thought he knew. All the pain, all the grief, was all for nothing. With the help of an unexpected ally, Dylan must find the answers and save the girl he loves before it’s too late.

Deceit.

Betrayal.

Revenge.

A second chance at love.

But first, he must find a way to make her remember her past. Remember him. Remember everything.GoodreadsAmazon US

EXCERPTDylan stood in front of his bathroom sink, a towel wrapped around his waist as he wiped the fog from the mirror. He studied his face, the lines that creased the skin around his blue-gray eyes and the shadows underneath that never seemed to fade. His eyes dropped lower, and his hand lifted of its own accord to trace the wing of the butterfly tattooed over his heart. The red ink curved and twisted to form a beautiful wing on one side, while the other was nothing but sharp, broken lines, the decayed black wing dripping with ink. It was the perfect tribute to Presley. She used to say he made her flutter. He regretted never telling her she did the same to him. When she left, she took that feeling with her.